


Plummet

by 5000beesinatrenchcoat (dirks_left_eyebrow)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (still bad at this tags thing), Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Demonstuck, it's p short too so don't get too invested you dorks, umm, will eventually tear your heart out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:30:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirks_left_eyebrow/pseuds/5000beesinatrenchcoat
Summary: Some super gay shenanigans including sad demon-y things and terrible plot cliches.





	1. Toaster Waffles Fix Everything

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to say thanks to everyone who has decided to read this dumb thing! /)//u//(\ If I don't update for a while please yell at me?? So I keep with it?? Thanks. And also get ready to cry bc. That's what this will do. Make you cry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave makes toaster waffles.

     You are falling. Fast. You don't quite have a grasp on the situation except that you know you are falling and that you have a growing sense of dread that you will soon hit the end of wherever you are falling. You have a strange suspicion that the shadows around you are alive, but every time you turn your head to get a good look at one it stares back at you, a blank canvas reminding you that no satisfaction would come out of being here. You know this is a dream. You know this isn't real. But fear is grabbing hold of you and gripping you tighter then when the main protagonist of a terrible action romance movie finds out his true love that he met five minutes ago was kidnapped, and clenches his fist in righteous anger. You barely flinch when you hit the ground. You still yell when you wake up, but this time it's easier. The yell is quieter, and the tears dry faster. You don't know why that dream affects you so much, and honestly it's annoying. It haunts your sleeping mind once a week if you are lucky, but normally it's closer to two or three times every week. You always yell and cry when you wake up. You always fall in the same setting. You always hit the ground. Your name is Dave Strider, and you are goddamn sick of this stupid ass nightmare.

     Once you are awake, there's no point in trying to lay in bed and pretend to sleep until a decent time, so you roll yourself out of bed and force yourself to undress for a shower. The clock reads 3:27 AM. Great. You strip off the same smelly and stained shirt you've been wearing for days, wrinkling your nose at it. It's from a band concert a lifetime ago with lettering too faded to read and a worn down autograph from the lead singer. It lands feebly on the side of the dirty laundry bin. Next comes the bright orange plaid pajama pants that you don't remember buying or receiving. They are stained and loose enough to be pulled up to your chest, which is exceedingly funny. You resist the temptation for now in favor of the hot shower, tossing them towards the basket and missing completely. You spend entirely too long under the hot water of the shower, and the clock reads 4:11 when you get out. You're proud of yourself for taking such a short time. Next comes clean clothes, the hard part. You dig through your drawers and pull out a soft red sweatshirt, which you pull over a different faded band shirt. Next comes fresh tighty whiteys and a pair of old blue jeans. You need a new fashion sense, but you've said that for the past three years and you're still in these clothes. You spare a glance in the mirror. Your normally calm blonde hair is messy and sticking out and there are deep bags under your eyes, but it's still the same pale face, the same paint-splattered freckles, and the same bright red, bloodshot eyes. You think your nose is a bit too long and flat, but you have high cheekbones that you think look elegant, though you wouldn't say it out loud.Your eyebrows are a little thin and darker then your hair, and they sit still over your eyes for now. Your hair goes down without a fight when you pull out the comb, and you sigh, running a finger over one of the thin scars criss-crossing your face. They didn't stand out too much, you thought, since your face was so pale, but if someone was looking closely, or trying to find them, they would be rewarded with those near invisible white lines. You forget to put on deodorant.

     You finally escape the bathroom and stumble blearily into the kitchen, turning on the coffee pot and putting in some toaster waffles. Then you flop onto the couch and turn on the tv to wait. Everyone knows that at 4:51 AM all that's on is Dr. Phil and Oprah reruns and some infomercials about a shitty non-stick pan that was more expensive then your rent each month, so you continue flipping channels. You stop on the news, since that seemed better then hours worth of shitty non-stick pans or listening to an old man who looks like he has an entire Christmas tree up his ass cry about how much he misses his ex wife and how her new man doesn't deserve her. You perk up at the report.

     "In other news, we have word of a demon sighting and attack yesterday evening on Broad Street. The demon was seen attacking an innocent bystander, who witnesses say held his own against the beast. A picture caught by the victim is being show on screen now. Please report sightings of strange looking people or odd behavior to the police immediately. Now on to Jim with the weather for this week.."

     You groan loudly and slap yourself in the face as the picture of you shows up on the screen. It's a low quality jpeg image and the lighting is terrible, but it's unmistakably you. Looks like you won't be going out anywhere in the sunlight for the next couple of weeks, just what your skin needs. You wander back into the kitchen to grab your waffles and pour coffee, digging into the waffles with fangs that could cut through bone and gripping the coffee mug with claws that could tear through flesh. Your name is Dave Strider, and you are very pissed of at the stupid ass little hunter who thought he could best you.


	2. Mirrored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the few kudos I already have!! ouo It's starting a little slow but it's gonna pick up a LOT next chapter. Bare with me.

     You are falling. You are falling fast and you are terrified. Your hands reach out helplessly to grab on to something, anything, but the shadows do nothing to aid you except move away. Tears dry before they leave your eyes from the wind whipping your face, and every time you try to yell you successfully have your air stolen from your lungs. You hit the ground with a thud, hands out in front of you, and wake with a start. First you sit up fast. Then you yell, and you sob for a bit. Then the yelling turns to whimpers, and the sobs turn to little hiccuping cries. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are super fucking tired of this godawful dream.

     You are wide awake now, but you cuddle under the soft blankets a while longer, snuggling your stuffed bear that you only keep because it was a present, definitely. After a few minutes you make the same decision you make every time this happens, which is to get out of bed because you aren't getting any sleep after that. You stumble blearily into the bathroom and strip off your colorful pajama shirt that has a dog on the front. It gets set gently in the laundry basket. You take off the matching colorful pajama shorts and get under the water as fast as possible. It only takes you a few minutes under the cold water to wake up fully, and you jump back out smelling like fresh pine and rushing water, or something. You had set your clothes out yesterday, so it was easy to get dressed. A black shirt with a black and white flannel over top and your favorite pair of skinny jeans. You look like a fuck boy most of the time. Or worse, a hipster. You like your sense of fashion. You don't bother trying to tame your hair other than to give it a feeble push in the right direction with your hands, which only makes it look messy in all the same direction. You glance in the mirror. You think you look pretty good. You have sun-kissed skin that is dotted with light colored freckles and a small, round nose. You briefly make eye contact with yourself to admire your red-brown eyes that always seem to catch the sun just right, then scowl at something on the bridge of your nose. Damn demon, he'll pay for this one. A thin and very visible white scar is placed right on the bridge of your nose. You have other scars on your face, but this one was very distracting and literally yelled to the world that you are a scary person not to be messed with. You rub at it and groan, then pull yourself away from the mirror to brush your teeth. You smear flower scented deodorant on your armpits, since 'guy' deodorant didn't have anything for those with sensitive skin. Typcal.

     You break away from the bathroom after a final check and start on breakfast, throwing in some toast and scrambling some eggs. You don't like coffee, so you flip a coin for hot chocolate or tea. You leave the tea to brew on the counter and move into the living room with your breakfast, setting it on the coffee table and switching on the TV. You lay across the couch with your head on the armrest and your feet propped up against the back, flipping through channels and eating eggs on toast. You spare a glance at the time and groan; it's 4:48 AM. As you begrudgingly leave behind a Dr. Phil rerun you've seen before, you pass the news channel and decide that it was your best option for the time being, annoying as that is. At least the report is interesting, you smirk as the reporter begins to talk.

     "In other news, we have word of a demon sighting and attack yesterday evening on Broad Street. The demon was seen attacking an innocent bystander, who witnesses say held his own against the beast. A picture caught by the victim is being show on screen now. Please report sightings of strange looking people or odd behavior to the police immediately. Now on to Jim with the weather for this week.."

     You smile evilly as the picture shows up on screen. The demon would pay for that scar he gave you. You wander back into the kitchen to get your warm tea and stir in some honey before taking a long draft, a grin on your lips. One hand is holding the tea and the other is resting on the counter, dangerously close to a pistol that has several shiny silver bullets next to it. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are the lucky hunter that beat the invincible demon.


	3. Mishaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh-oh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback so far! /)//u//(\

     It's over. It's all over and you can't believe you were so fucking stupid. Dave Strider is not one to give up, but this situation is absolutely hopeless. It is 10:27 PM, and you are in a 24-hour bargain mart. Your cart is stacked and you are at the cash register. The man is staring at you with distaste and impatience. You give him a fake half-smile and continue digging in your bag for your wallet. 

     "I swear I have it, I know I put it in here!" You feel yourself begin to sweat. You hear somebody get in line behind you but can't see their face behind the pile of mac and cheese and frozen corn dogs. It's too late to turn back but.. you must. You sigh in defeat and swing your bag onto your back.

     "Sorry I... I'll just have to put this back and come back when I get my wallet.." The man at the register sighs and pinches his nose and you feel your face heat up, embarrassed beyond belief. Then you hear a voice behind you that echoes against the stingy used-to-be-white walls with the most merciful words you've ever heard.

     "Hey- wait, I'll pay for you, don't worry about it." You smile wide, turning to see the stranger, and do a double take. He's smiling right back at you and as he passes a card to the man at the register, and he rolls his eyes. 

     "Yeah.. I mean, it's the least I could do, right? I caused you all this trouble." You are paralyzed with fear and anger. You don't know what to make of him, the kid that was able to defeat you. You hadn't gotten a good look at him earlier since you were fighting and all, and you cursed yourself for thinking this, but you couldn't help but notice that this dude was pretty dang cute. His hair curled around his ears and his eyes caught the light well, even the fluorescent white lights of this stinky little bargain mart. And he's smiling at you. You feel your fangs bare involuntarily and behind the aviators you threw on to look cool your eyes flashed.

     "I didn't know the famous archdemon Dave Strider shopped at a dirty little bargain mart this late at night." He raises an eyebrow at you and takes his card back. You bite back a growl and grip the edge of the checkout with your claws easily visible.

     "I didn't know that cocky, luck-of-the-draw hunter newborns came here to shop, either." You can't come up with anything clever, you can barely see through the red haze that's clouding your vision. His smile grows wider and this time you don't hold back the small growl that escapes your sneer. 

     "Cool it hot shot. What makes you think I came here to fight?" He leans against the checkout nonchalantly. You can't help but snort in satisfaction as you spy the scar crossing his nose. His face is beginning to look more serious, so you take the bait.

     "If you aren't here to fight, then what are you here to do? I doubt you're just here just to be a good Samaritan." You laugh at your own weak humor. You're nervous and he can tell, you're sure of it. He blinks once and scoots around you cart, placing a finger on your chest and tracing it up, stopping right below the skin before pushing past you and standing by the automatic doors. They open and a little breeze picks up his hair as he turns his face just enough to look at you.

     "I'm here to dance, of course." His hand pulls a small gun from his pocket, showing it off for a few seconds before he strides outside into the dark. Your heart is pounding. You could leave right now, run home and forget about this used tissue. But you're THE Dave Strider, and you sure as hell aren't losing to this asswipe again. You leave your groceries in the store and pull your sleeves up as you head outside, a hand in your pocket. It's about to get real. 

 


	4. A Trip Down Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's about to get real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your support! Sorry this chapter took longer to crank out, I've been a bit more tired due to the holiday season! Once school starts back up (If I don't finish before then) I'll have to take to updating once or twice a week instead of like. Every day. Because school is very very time consuming!! :0 Also a reminder that tomorrow and the day after tomorrow this may not get updated as I will be taking time to be with my family for the holidays, so if I don't update apologies in advance! <33

     It is about to get real. Your name is Karkat Vantas. It is somewhere around 11 PM, but you aren't sure about that. You're standing alone in the dark in the small parking lot of a stingy bargain mart and waiting. You have a hand on the gun in your pocket. You wish your opponent would hurry up, as it is a bit chilly. Your opponent. Dave Strider. You remember the fight with Dave Strider days before. It hadn't been brutal, or bloody, or fatal as fights with this particular demon seem to usually end. The fight had started normal. You saw him trying to lure a human kid out away from her parents, away into the shadows where he could trap and consume her. You interrupted his act and threatened him, unwilling to watch him tear apart an innocent kid. He bared his fangs, hissing and smirking at you with the confidence written across his face. You drew your gun shakily, letting it fall to your side because you knew it wouldn't help you. Famous seasoned hunters had been torn to shreds by Dave Strider before, and you were quite new to this, so you knew exactly how this would end. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the girl's parents whisk her away and other people leaving quickly, and you sighed in relief, your job done. Hesitation. Dave had jumped at you, and you remember thinking that it would be the end, though for some reason your fear disappeared. He would tear open your throat, or rip of your face, or shred your abdomen. What you felt was a little stinging on your nose and a few little droplets of blood as they squeezed out of the rip, but you were focused on something else. As you had made contact, you thought you had seen something. A vision? A dream? A memory? But even this thought was pushed out of your head as you realized that he was distracted by something, a hand on his head. Your gun came up and you barely remember pulling the trigger, knowing you only had one chance. A bullet grazed his arm below his shirt sleeve. It began to bleed in small rivers, and he looked down at it, then at you in an expression that mirrored your own fear. Hands that were not yours dropped the gun. You watched him stare for a few moments before he turned and ran, and you collapsed to your knees, absolutely exhausted. And now you were about to fight him. Again. From somewhere you can hear the slide of a squeaky automatic door. It sounds distant, like it's far away, but you still turn to face Dave Strider confidently as he approaches you.

     "Is this it then?" You feel a lump form in your throat as his voice rings out. You don't feel scared. You don't feel anything except for an indescribable guilt that you are trying to push down with everything you have. His voice sounds.. human. A little rough, like it's not supposed to sound that way, like he's forcing something. You don't want to feel this way.

     "Well? I tear you to shreds because you want to be even more famous? Or maybe you have some sort of sadistic death wish?" You can see freckles outlined along his cheekbones like the stars above you. Your eyes feel misty, and you blink a couple times fast. He takes off his shades and folds them onto the front of his sweatshirt. You clench your fists tight enough to leave little red indents in your palms

     "What is this about, Vantas? I don't have all night. Unlike pricks like you, I have an actual schedule to keep. Places to be, people to see." His eyebrows furrow as he gets a better look at you. You gulp and hunch your shoulders to try and make yourself feel better by looking confident. You want to know what those images were. You want to see what it was that Dave Strider had shown you in your last battle. Could he even show you again? You push down the doubts with a tiny shake of your head, clenching your teeth.

     "You know why we're out here!" You feel your hand grab the handle of your gun, and you try to stand up straighter. Dave's claws seem to become longer and his fangs show, shining in the pale light of the moon and stars. 

     "I was hoping that you would change your mind- please make an appointment next time." You can't help but snort at Dave's sarcastic humor, but your laugh is cut short as you dodge an attack from his claws. You hit him as he passes, your fist hitting hiss arm, and everything slows down. You see Dave go down, and feel yourself start to fall. All the colors around you begin to blend together until the parking lot finally disappears

     You don't know what's going on. In front of you, you can see things happening, but they don't make sense. It's you, but you have fangs, and claws, almost like.. you blink hard. Beside you is a stranger, an angel with fluffy white wings and golden hair and a bright smile. You're both laughing. Then they both turn their heads to look at something and you get a better look at them. The angel has bright red eyes. You feel dread, and the memory begins to fade, colors swirling together and then slowly reforming the parking lot around you. Somewhere off to the side, Dave is on the ground too. You don't think you can move quite yet, and you head hurts. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wails.


	5. I'm running out of suggestive titles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i have no explanation for being gone so long and i have a project due the day we get back.

      _Fuuuuuuck._ Fuck fuck fuck. Your head hurts. You aren't sure what time it is, but you know that it is dark except for something bright above you that is extremely annoying. There's some sort of siren going off and all you can do to help ease the pain is curl into a little ball and shiver, hoping that the noise and pain and light will cease long enough to get your bearings. You don't have that much luck, but after a few seconds the terrible pounding recedes to a mild ache and you're comfortable enough to uncurl and squint at the light above you. Ah. It's a flashlight in the hand of a sneering police officer who does not look happy. By habit you flinch and sit up fast, tense, and are immediately rewarded with a spinning head. You can see a little ways off Karkat is explaining something to another officer. You feel simultaneous fear and anger. After this you would probably be in the slammer for a few weeks before anybody bothered breaking you out, which was a major setback despite the free meals. You slowly ease yourself to your feet and stretch, sighing as your arms drop back down and turning to offer the police officer a grimace. You spot your aviators on the ground, one lense almost completely gone. What a great night. Karkat and the officer glance over at you as you examine them, and then the officer approaches. You are pleasantly surprsed when he walks past you, and you almost cry when both of them climb into their car and leave. Karkat comes up behind you and taps you on the shoulder and you turn warily, expecting to be at gun point. He looks tired, eyes slightly bloodshot and frown making little wrinkles on his chin.

     "Do you.. have an apartment? Or like, a house we could go to to talk in privately?" You blink a few times as you process his question. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs wearily.

     "Oh- uh, yeah, of course." You gesture lazily with a hand in the general direction and turn, taking a few steps towards it and waiting for Karkat to fall in beside you. Neither of you says anything on the walk except for when Karkat shivered and you realized that his flannel was actually quite flimsy.

     "Oh, here, take this." You don't even hesitate to take off your sweatshirt and drape it over Karkat's shoulders. For a moment he looks like he might argue, but then he just pulls it over his head and mutters a small 'thank you'. You don't make eye contact the rest of the walk.

     You get a few weird looks as you walk through your apartment building, and you find a mixture of relief and sheer terror as you invite Karkat into your small home. Your living room is littered with old candy wrappers and used dishes, and you wish you had cleaned up with your free time. Instead you brush off the couch and clear a space for yourself, offering him a seat next to you. He stands.

     "So... you're in my house." You gulp, trying not to betray how uncomfortable you feel. Karkat raises an eyebrow.

     "Yeah, so I am. You know why we need to talk, right?" He settles himself on the arm of the chair, arms crossed. You twiddle your thumbs in your lap.

     "Um, maybe?" You grin apologetically and shrug as loosely as you can manage. He roll his eyes.

     "Come on, it's not that hard. The visions? Or images, or memories, whatever you want to call them. Aren't you curious?" You clench your teeth as you remember the flood of images. Karkat tilts his head to the side a bit.

     "I mean, I know what you're talking about, but I'd rather not talk about it.." Karkat looks puzzled, and his eyebrows knit together. You bite your bottom lip and look down at your lap.

     "Why are you so scared of them..?" He leans forward enough to look at your face. You hunch your shoulders up and fidget.

     "I mean, how can.. how can you stand them? Isn't- Doesn't it scare you?" Karkat's eyebrows shoot up and hide underneath his hair and You look away quickly.

     "S-sorry, I shouldn't have said anything.." Karkat grabs your shoulder and you look back at him.

     "No- no, I'm glad you told me, Dave. Why don't you tell me more about it? I mean, if you want to. It's just, the images I've seen have always been so.. pleasant." He looks genuinely confused and you feel yourself melt a bit.

     "O-ok, I mean, it's not anything really, and it doesn't make sense.." You take a deep breath to brace yourself and look back down at your lap as you begin to talk.

     "It's just- whenever we make contact- like, skin to skin,- I kind of.. pass out? And I start seeing visions, but it's like I'm apart of them and they're real.." You pause, feeling scared to Karkat about this. He nods reassuringly, this sounds familiar.

     "When it happens it's me, and you're there, but you have pointy teeth and- and red eyes- not brown red, like you have now, but actual blood red. Almost like me- almost like a demon. And then there's me, and it's like I'm the same but I'm not, and there's suddenly this loud noise and we're both falling and- and there's a lot of screaming and I can't _move_ and-" You can't stop talking once you start. You begin to rock back and forth, lost in fear. Karkat grabs your shoulders and shakes you.

     "Dave? Dave, that's enough- come on, it's ok, you can stop-!" You flinch back into reality and look Karkat in the eyes, and realize that your vision is blurry and your cheeks are wet. You wipe them quickly and put your hands clenched together in your lap, shaking a bit.

     "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just-" You're cut off as Karkat carefully pulls you into a hug. You're too surprised to do anything but sit there, and after a moment he pulls back to his own seat awkwardly.

     "It's fine, I'm just glad you're ok." He looks away from you and your face heats up. There are quite a few seconds of really awkward silence before he speaks up again.

     "So, what do you have to drink around here? For some reason I'm absolutely parched." He grins at you and you find yourself smiling through a small sniffle. You stand up and brush yourself off as though to wipe away the thoughts.

     "Do you like apple juice or coffee?" You find yourself drifting towards him. He stands up as well.

     "Apple juice is fine." He links his arm through yours and leads you into the kitchen, and then insists on pouring the drinks. You sip apple juice quietly for a long time with the window open, a small breeze carrying in scents of an oncoming storm and suddenly just happy to be with each other. The moon is almost full.


	6. What Doesn't Kill You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They gotta see the rest of the memories!!!! They  gotta know what they mean!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about disappearing everyone!! Please rest assured that I will do my best to keep up with at least once a week updates from now on, I just had a LOT of school troubles in the last couple weeks haha ^u^;;; Get ready for some ANSWERS!!!

     Moonlight shines down through an open window, cut by the curtains blowing gently in a sweet, cool breeze. Dave Strider, renowned demon and dangerous criminal, is sitting in front of you and sipping apple juice out of a questionably clean mug, raising his eyebrows over it to try and make you laugh. You roll your eyes and lean back, letting yourself get lost in thought about the images that invaded your mind every time you and Dave touched. You had to know what they meant, But if they hurt Dave... you shake your head quickly. You need to know what those pictures mean.

     "Dave," You say with all the authority you can muster, "We need to try and figure out what those pictures mean, and we can't do that without seeing it all the way through." Dave looks at you, and for half a second you see the flash of fear in his eyes as he registers what you said, his entire mind becoming vulnerable and open as he looks for a way out. Then the second was over and his eyes hardened over, closed off and hidden. He nods at you and hunches his shoulders, then stands and gestures to another door. 

     "The bedroom, I guess. I feel the same way. I.. I want to know just as much as you do." He mutters it in a rough, unsteady voice. You nod and enter before him, wrinkling your nose at the mess. He quickly clears a spot on the bed and sits, then pats a spot beside him. You sit and make eye contact with him, deliberately searching his eyes for a trace of the openness that was there before, but all that's there is the faint reflection of a lamp and some darker shades of red that ring his pupils. You blink and look away, embarrassed.

     "So, do we just like, touch hands or something?" His voice is back to normal now, but he coughs after to be sure. You look back, biting your lip.

     "Well, I was thinking about that just now, and for some reason I don't think that will work. Cause, like, when we battled we would briefly touch like that and get nothing but vague and annoying hints. I think it's got to be something more..." You pause, gritting your teeth as you try to find another word to describe it. 

     "Intimate." Dave finishes your thought for you. You nod with a shrug.

     "But what could we do? I mean, I don't think hand holding is really 'intimate', persay, but what's closer then that that isn't.. uncomfortable?" You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, but you bite them back, your face heating up. If it would give you answers... But no! There was no way you could do that. Dave looks thoughtfully at the floor, fidgeting a little.

     "I mean... I guess we could... I mean, if you wouldn't mind we could like..." His face is bright red and you feel like he can hear your heart beating, since it feels like it's about to burst out of your chest. He looks up at you and you feel like you might faint as the light catches on his face, his eyes lighting up and his hair perfectly golden and his lips so tempting.. You shake the thought away quickly, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you.

    "I-I mean.. I guess it's worth a shot, at least. Nothing wrong with trying." He sits up the rest of the way, a smile teasing the edges of his lips and his eyes softer then they were. He leans in, first a little, then a bit more, and then enough that you can feel his breath against your face. You feel yourself melting away, his skin seeming close enough to feel warmth. His eyes meet yours for a hesitant second, he blinks, and then he kisses you.


	7. Yikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories!!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't posted on this in like, a year, but somebody bookmarked it really recently and it made me feel bad but it encouraged me, too so here's the next chapter I guess-- I'm gonna finish this if it kills me (especially cause it's not even that long? lmao)

    You are sinking. Karkat's lips are pushed hesitantly against yours, one of his hands on your chest and his body leaning away. And then you are gone, flashes of light blinding you and noises in your ears like voices blown away by the wind, whisking past every time you start to hear what they're saying. You pull away from Karkat with a gasp, the images immediately fading and you return to a warmly lit room, a soft bed, and Karkat's deep red eyes staring at you in wonder. He smiles, then starts to laugh. His laughing is joined by tears, and you find your own eyes getting misty as well and disbelief begins gnawing on your mind.

     "D-do you know what this means..?" He grabs your shoulders, giving you a little shake before seeing your face and pulling back a bit. 

     "Dave, do you know what those memories mean?" You look at him, taking in the small scars on his face and neck, the tiny ring of darker red around his pupils, the way his hair curves and dips in a constant wind blown look. Your vision blurs, and you feel hot tears begin to roll down your face. Karkat looks confused, reaching out a hand to you and gently patting your thigh.

     "Dave, are you ok? What did you see?" He looks worried, the laughter gone from his face. You wipe your eyes quickly, trying to pull yourself together. Your hand finds Karkat's, and you feel relieved when nothing happens. You meet his gaze with all the strength you can muster before replying, feeling more confident now.

     

     "It- it was dark, at first," You begin, trembling slightly, "And then- there was so much blood, and- and I was falling and-" You feel your chest heaving, but you feel disconnected, shaking from head to toe. Karkat hesitantly pulls you into a hug and you sob into his shoulder, grabbing him tight and not letting go. It was all coming back now. It was like there was a wall in your mind before, an inconspicuous barrier keeping you from these memories- good and bad. But they were back now, and you weren't going to let them go.

     You were born as an angel, a divine creature made to serve the one and only God. It had been a short mission to Earth that summer- you had to kill a demon that the human hunters couldn't touch. You remember the heat making waves in the evening air, the sun setting behind you as you faced off with him. You remember his wind-blown hair, his brown-red eyes. The feeling of his claws as they ran across your cheek and the feeling of his lips just a week later. The way his laugh sounded and the way he cried. You remember the day they discovered you, the way he jumped to protect you and the way his body crumpled with one blow. They took you to the Divine court to be sentenced, but not before they broke you. Days in a dark room all alone with no one to help you. He was there, too, at the divine court. You attacked the guard holding him after seeing his bloodied nose, his bruised eye. And then the Head Archangel came in and the trial began. You remember the verdict- you and Karkat would have your memories wiped and be forced to live on Earth, never knowing the truth. You became a demon and, as some sort of cruel joke, he became a hunter. And now you were curled against him, barely able to breathe as you tug him as close as you can, wanting to feel his warmth and hear his heartbeat and the gentle way he says 'shush, shush, it's ok now'.     


End file.
